The Last Proposal
by KensiBlonde
Summary: In Season 11, Diane comes back and she and Sam both pretend to be married to other people. When that falls apart and their lies are exposed, they end up running off together, only to return to Cheers to announce they are getting married. This is how that came to be...


HOTEL ROOM

(SAM and DIANE are in her hotel room - naked in bed. They lounge like satisfied cats in each other's arms, both spent from the force of that bewilderingly intense passion - the one between them that just won't seem to die - no matter how much time has passed.)

Diane: Wow.

Sam: (kissing the side of her face) Ditto.

Diane: (sighs) No, I mean, wow, I wasn't expecting this.

Sam: (smiles, but slightly hurt) _That's_ why you're saying 'wow'?

Diane: Well - 'wow' in general. But you knew that.

Sam: Yeah, I knew that… And you still like the lift part.

Diane: I love the lift part.

(They both laugh, still aglow with the hours just spent once more exploring each other's bodies… making up for all that lost time.)

(Diane stretches luxuriously - and then casually glances at her watch.)

Diane: Would you look at the time.

(Then, without warning, she is out of his arms and perched on the side of the bed. She grabs a nearby robe and wraps herself in it.)

Diane: (standing) Listen, Sam, I REALLY wasn't expecting this and I've got a plane to catch.

Sam: Plane? What do you need a plane for?

Diane: Sam, I know geography isn't your forte, so let's try this... (singing)

 _Los An-gel-es_

 _Los An-gel-es_

 _You border on the Pac-i-fic Oc-ean_

 _You're three thousand miles from Boo-ooo-ston_

 _Which means Di-ane can't -_ _walk_ _!_

Sam: Gee, thanks. I know you think I have the brain of a pumpkin but I know you can't walk to Los Angeles.

Diane: I know - just a little teasing for old time's sake.

(Sam hops out of bed, pulls on his boxer shorts, and slinks behind her.)

Sam: All I meant was - (he pulls her hair away from her neck, and starts kissing it) - maybe you'd want to say a little longer...

Diane: I can't do that. I have a lot of work to do… a meeting with a producer in a couple of days… and I should really get to my doctor - my ear is still ringing from all that screaming Carla did.

Sam: I - (completely frustrated - he pulls away) Oh, you know, what… go. Go!

Diane: Sam, _you're_ the one who never wants to talk about anything. I figured you'd _want_ me to go. In fact, I'm sort of surprised you're still here.

Sam: C'mon. We were engaged, for god's sake!

Diane: Yes, and I spent months cajoling, prodding, and strong-arming you into it. If I could have hog tied you and wheeled you to the justice of the peace, I would have done it.

Sam: Ah, you know I wouldn't have done anything I didn't really want to do. Besides, being hog tied sounds kind of fun.

(Once more he wraps her in his arms and leans into her for a kiss, but she turns her lips.)

Diane: Anyway, Sam. It's been glorious. And I'm going to miss you. (she pecks him on the cheek) But I have to go.

(She turns and starts gathering her belongings.)

Sam: I - this is - you're just running off?

Diane: (continuing to pack) Of course.

Sam: Diane - will you just sit here with me for a second?

Diane: I can't. I'll miss my plane.

Sam: (forcefully shutting her suitcase) Screw your plane! It's been six years and I have a few things to say.

Diane: Fine. But hurry.

Sam: (beginning to pace) All right, look. I know it probably seemed like I didn't want to go through with the wedding. I know I kind of pushed you out there.

Diane: Kind of? Sam, when the phone call came through about my book, you practically collapsed with relief.

Sam: I did not!

(She merely stares him down - he runs his hand through his hair - then he walks over and places his hands on her shoulders, giving her a pleading look.)

I'm sorry. I was a real jackass.

Diane: (stiffly) Okay.

Sam: And I regret it. More than I regret drinking myself out of baseball. More than I regret not being with Coach the night he died. And almost as much as I regret giving Norm an unlimited bar tab.

Diane: (trying not to laugh) Well, that does sound regrettable.

(They stare at each other for a long, tension-filled moment. Finally, she breaks eye contact.)

Diane: Look, Sam, I don't know what you want from me. So you've ridden every other filly on the East Coast and decided none of them were up to par? Worked your way all through the alphabet and are back to C for Chambers? Sorry, I'm not your plan Z.

(She plucks his hand out of the way and starts putting things in her suitcase again.)

Sam: It's not like that at all!

Diane: Well, what IS it like?

(She stops packing and turns to face him, some of the old fire in her eyes returning.)

You know what? I came back to Cheers - I wanted to talk to you. To see if we could come to some sort of compromise - maybe I could stay in Boston and still write. Maybe you could come to L.A. I thought I could live without you - but I couldn't. I came and you were gone. Off sailing. Didn't even tell me about it.

Sam: Diane -

Diane: (really dialing it up now) Oh, and then. THEN! I came back six months later. Just like I said I would. I never told you - wanted to surprise you. I came down the steps, and looked in the window - and saw you leaning over the bar - leaning over it just the way you used to with me. And there was another woman on the other side of the bar - very attractive, dark hair. Now that I think about it, I guess it was Rebecca. You were giving her those same damn eager-puppy dog eyes you used to give me.

Sam: Rebecca and I - we're just friends.

Diane: Sam Malone, you have never been 'just friends' with a woman in your life.

Sam: There's Carla!

Diane: With a woman who looks like Rebecca in your life.

Sam: Well, it happened. God only knows how, but it did. You can ask her!

(pause - now HE'S starting to get angry)

And besides that - I hadn't heard from you in months.

Diane: Of course not, you were sailing around the world.

Sam: Even before that! You were always busy, could never talk...

Diane: Sam, I couldn't do it anymore. You know what it's like to feel like you might get replaced at any moment - by someone younger, prettier, or just dumber and sluttier? It wears you down, that's what it does. Wears you down to the point where you feel nothing. And I'm not like that anymore. I like myself. Finally, I feel confident, at peace. I have work that keeps me fulfilled and self-actualized. I have friends I like and respect - and they like and respect me.

Sam: And what else, Diane? You have a guy out there or what?

Diane: What does that matter?

Sam: I'm just asking.

Diane: Yes, there's someone I'm seeing. And spare me the morality sermon, because you're one to talk. I'm sure for every one man I've dated, there's been a hundred women for you. I mean, you were up to 'four honeys' before we even got together.

Sam: (defeated) Look… Diane… I have a problem. I know that, and I'm getting help with it.

Diane: What problem?

Sam: I'm a - well, I'm - I've been going to sex addicts anonymous.

Diane: Sex what?!

Sam: I'm a sex addict ... I think.

Diane: Oh my god. Sam, do I need to get tested or something?

Sam: No, no. I never cheated on you. Never! (crossing his heart) I swear to god.

Diane: (touching her throat) Well, this is - (she forces herself to look at him, almost proudly) I'm glad you're getting help.

Sam: Yeah, I was doing pretty good too - until you showed up.

Diane: Oh, excuse me if I ruined your 24 hours of celibacy. Was it a whole 24 hours?

Sam: Sweetheart - listen to me. I screwed up. I was young and stupid. Now I'm just old and stupid. And hoping to not be so stupid anymore. (he takes her hand) I still love you. I always have. If you don't feel the same, I understand. But if I don't put it out there, I'm going to regret it for the rest of my life.

(Suddenly he drops to his knees, grabs her around the waist, and looks up at her with every ounce of heart he has in his eyes.)

Sam: Diane - will you marry me? Again?

Diane: Sam, please, get off the floor.

Sam: I'm serious right now. I have missed the hell out of you. If you want to go back that guy, then I wouldn't blame you. But I think we can have a great life together - maddening, but great.

Diane: Sam, I - ordinarily I would just say no and then tell you all my reasons hoping you'd ask again later, but now I've matured, so I'm just going to say ... _hell_ no. (laughs)

Sam: (getting up off his knees) That's really funny, Diane.

Diane: Listen … we've tried so hard, Sam. No one has tried harder than we have. And it just never works. What would be different? I just don't think I can go through it all again.

Sam: Yeah, we don't work, we don't work. Everyone says we don't work. And here we are! Can you explain that?

Diane: No.

Sam: Well, I can. Maybe there was a time when I couldn't, but I can now. We just ARE. Okay? Who cares if you don't like the things I like and I don't like the things you like… we like _each other._ And who cares why or how or when or what. Who cares!

(Wrapping her in his arms.)

Sam: Marry me, damn you.

Diane: Sam… will you let me think about this?

Sam: Um. Sure. How long do you need?

Diane: At least let me go put my face on.

Sam: This is the face I want.

Diane: Sam, let me take a shower.

Sam: (grasping her tighter) No, no. You don't get to leave the room. Every time you leave a room, I never know if you're coming back or not.

Diane: Sam, please...

(He takes her face in his hands.)

Look at me. Yes, we have outrageously great sex - it's like it was invented just for us or something. But it's more than that.

Diane: That's not what you said at Melville's a few hours ago.

Sam: Since when do you take anything I say seriously? Come on! We laugh with each other. We care about each other. We like talking to each other. Okay, I know I always say I'm not listening to you - but I'm going to change that!

Diane: What was the last thing I said?

Sam: Sorry?

Diane: The last thing I said - since you're such a keen listener now.

Sam: Uh, you have to give me some advanced warning if you're gonna do that.

(She breaks out of his grasp and flounces off towards the bathroom.)

Sam: (breathlessly) You were going to put your face on!

(She stops in her tracks.)

Sam: And, let's see, before that, you asked for some time to think about things… and before that you told me to get off the floor. And somewhere in there you sang a song about Los Angeles.

(She slowly turns around, as stunned as she's ever been in her life.)

Diane: Sam - you really were listening. I'm not one to believe in miracles but - I'm speechless.

Sam: Well now _I_ believe in miracles!

(They both laugh.)

Diane: Could this really be happening? Have you really changed this much?

Sam: (coming to her once again and taking her hands in his) Sweetheart, I'm never gonna be the guy who's chomping at the bit to get to the art gallery. But I swear if you don't make me watch opera I won't make you watch Sox games.

Diane: (softening, but still holding out slightly…) And what exactly will we do when we're not having sex?

Sam: What we always do… try to figure each other out. Or maybe just accept each other for who we are… and just … BE.

(There's a long pause, and then she looks up at him with those big eyes… brimming with adoration… the way she used to look at him.)

Diane: You know what, Sam?

Sam: (dying inside) Oh, lord, what?

Diane: (she breaks into a smile) I can't think of a better way I'd like to spend the rest of my life.

Sam: (exhaling with intense relief) Me neither.

(They hug each other for dear life.)


End file.
